


Epilogue: two years later

by Vicwic



Series: Teen Wolf Remix [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Everyone mentioned in passing - Freeform, Fix-It, M/M, Mentioned Lydia Martin, Mentioned Scott McCall, Mentioned Sheriff Stilinski, Season/Series 06, Stiles and Derek have a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicwic/pseuds/Vicwic
Summary: What happened at the end of the Season 6b Finale and a bit before. Derek and Stiles in a kitchen showing a bit of affection (but probably still not enough to warrant more than a G rating)This is now Teen Wolf finished. In my head. Just as I want it and reckon it really happened.





	Epilogue: two years later

Stiles nuzzled into Derek, snaking his arms around his waist and pulling him close. Underneath the softness of his sweatshirt, Stiles could feel the pull of Derek’s muscles as he moved, washing the last of the breakfast dishes. Stiles began to nudge his hand under Derek’s shirt, fingers dancing over the surface of his skin, but Derek gently untangled him and pushed him away. “Come on,” he whispered into Stiles’ hair and gave him a tender and quick kiss. “We need to get moving.”

Stiles didn’t want to get moving. He wanted to stay home, drink hot chocolate and watch movies with Derek snug by his side and maybe have a little sexy time. Speaking of which; he closed in on Derek again hands reaching.

“Limpet,” said Derek fondly.

Stiles lowered his hands, arms encircling Derek’s waist, fingers now at the front caressing Derek’s bulge, enjoying the familiar shape of it; feeling it begin to harden. He chuckled and gave a gentle squeeze, pressing himself up against Derek's ass and resting his forehand on his back inhaling the smell of the citrus fabric softener they used mixed in with Derek's own slightly musky scent. His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Humph,” he muttered.

“See, “said Derek twisting slightly to loosen Stiles. “Check it. It could be a text from your Dad or Scott. Maybe Lydia.”

“No, Dad would call you,” said Stiles, “if he has a problem getting back from the Conference. He knows you’ll be waiting on him.”

He stood and watched as Derek, being irritatingly impervious to Stiles’ wandering hands and general awesomeness, gave a careful wipe to a coffee cup and put it on the drainer. It was all due to Mr. Mistoffelees. Mr. Mistoffelees was tatty, old, crabby and a cat and he needed lots of love and Stiles and Derek both doted on him ever since he had followed Stiles home one evening several months ago. And today, after Stiles had left, Derek was going to stay behind with Mr. Mistoffelees, now sans teeth or more accurately without half of them, to wait for the Sheriff to return. It made sense. Mr. Mistoffelees adored Derek, who at best usually had a neutral relationship with felines; Derek was one of the few people along with both Stilinskis who could handle him without cat drama. Derek would be taking him over to the Sheriff’s from theirs with the rest of his medication and a list of post-operative instructions from the vet once the Sheriff was home.  Derek would then leave to drive down to LA to meet Stiles, Scott and the rest of the pack.

While Derek was on Mr. Mistoffelees duty, Stiles had his own schedule and was due to leave himself; he probably should have left already. Lydia was arriving at LAX mid-afternoon, flying in from MIT. It would take him about 6 hours or so to drive there from Beacon Hills to pick her up to take them both into LA, and the clock was ticking. She wouldn’t be happy if she was kept waiting.

“You’ve got where we’re meeting Scott?” he said to Derek

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes, I haven’t deleted it,” he said gesturing towards his mobile as it lay on the table behind them. “I suppose a scrap yard is better than those stench filled flood channels he suggested we meet in last time when he went all secretive. At least it’s near enough to walk into town.” Derek brightened slightly, “I’m looking forward to us all trying that new Mexican place he promised us. Hope he booked a table.” Finished with the washing up, he rolled down his sleeves and folded his arms, leaning against the side. “We don’t actually know why we’re going yet, do we? Suppose we’ll find out more when we reach LA.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Well, there’s Lydia and her magicky books she’s bringing. Otherwise, it just sounds like a pack summons. Scott has found another omega. Think Chris is involved. Might be bad hunters around.”

Stiles moved over to the fridge and bent to take out his lunch. Derek had made him a stack of sandwiches with various fillings to take. Stiles had protested he could buy something on the way, he liked the idea of stopping at an old-style diner somewhere and imagining himself for a time, feckless; lose on the open road, but Derek had been insistent. Stiles had ended up indulging him. After two years with Derek he’d learned when something wasn’t worth disputing, and if Derek’s precious wolfy instincts to provide were appeased by making him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a journey, he’d go with it and be glad. He felt Derek eying him as he bent over and he smiled to himself, bending a little lower, as Derek eased over to him and rested a hand on his back, stroking his spine through his tee-shirt. Stiles straightened up and turned in to him, pleased to have teased out a response at last. Derek’s eyes had darkened. Stiles grinned at him and let the tip of his tongue run deliberately over his lower lip. Derek gave a little growl. Stiles threw his head back slightly, exposing the length of his neck. He felt Derek move his hands till they were resting on his hips and allowed Derek to pull him close. Stiles slowly rotated his hips. Derek moaned slightly. Stiles phone buzzed again, vibrating against his leg.

“Damn,” said Stiles pulling it impatiently out of his pocket and glancing at the screen. “It’s Malia. She’s leaving now with Liam, Mason, and Corey.  I really will have to get a move on.”

Dropping his hands, Derek pouted and Stiles tried not to coo at him. He never failed to find Derek pouts hilarious and adorable, and he couldn’t take them seriously. He gave Derek’s chest a firm tap instead. “The sooner we get LA over with, the sooner we can get back home. Come on, Sourwolf. Stop dawdling. Holding me up with your canoodling. You're insatiable.”

Derek glared and raised his eyebrows demonstratively. Stiles wiggled his back at him then picked his lunch up from the side where he’d put it.

“What’s the other message?” asked Derek watching him.

“Eh?” said Stiles. “Oh yes.” He scanned his phone again. “Lydia. Just confirming times.”

“You’re looking forward to seeing her?”

Stiles nodded and let a soft smile play across his face. They didn’t get to see Lydia often. The rest of the main pack was still based in Beacon Hills. At present, Lydia was the only one of the core group who’d moved away. She’d left not long after he and Derek had got back from his shortened stint at Quantico to confront the Anuk-Ite and now rarely came back. That, of course, had been when Stiles and Derek had finally got together; after the increasingly intense journey back west from Virginia. The sexual tension had been so heavy you could almost slice through it and that had been followed in Beacon Hills by that awkward period during the final confrontation and the start of the War proper when he’d been pretending an interest to spare Lydia only to find, when he’d sat and been honest with her, that she had been doing the same to spare him. He’d wondered why she’d never kissed him. They’d both agreed they were better as friends, to mutual relief. Stiles had been in Derek’s bed 30 minutes later, or maybe an hour if he was to be fair to his sense of restraint.

Stiles was now officially behind time. He grabbed a bottle of Coke from the freezer to take with him, it could defrost on the journey; he liked it cold. As he did so, next to a fridge magnet of the Golden Gate Bridge, a postcard from Ruben and Danny caught his eye; a lurid and slightly over-exposed beach scene from their holiday in Italy a couple of months ago. He smiled to himself. He’d introduced them on a whim after Danny had unexpectedly got in contact a year or so ago, and they’d been together ever since. He was still in touch with Aria too though none of the others he’d met during his brief period at Quantico.  He still had hopes of returning one day and resuming studying, the War had opened up possibilities; his dreams of the FBI were not dead yet.

While Stiles was finishing organizing his lunch, Derek had fetched Stiles’ rucksack from the bedroom. Stiles took it from him. “I’ll see you later this evening, D”, he said. “Let me know how Mr. Mistoffelees settles.”

“He’ll be fine,” replied Derek. “He loves your Dad. He’ll get spoilt rotten. Text me if you get delayed picking up Lydia.” He paused. His face softened and he looked at Stiles. “Love you.” He gave Stiles a small and sweet smile.

Stiles reached to cup Derek’s cheek and became still for a moment. “Love you back, “he replied quietly. He gave Derek’s jawline a gentle stroke with his thumb. Then with a nod, he swung his rucksack up onto his shoulder. With a final kiss and a wave goodbye at Derek, standing there in the kitchen with a smile still lingering on his lips, Stiles left the house and walked out to his Jeep parked next to the Camaro on the driveway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I now have a Tumblr at [craftydelusioncheesecake](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/craftydelusioncheesecake) for what it's worth!


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